


Vignette

by Salchat



Category: HEYER Georgette - Works, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Forbidden Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sad, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salchat/pseuds/Salchat
Summary: John realises he's fallen in love, but he can't let love distract him from his duty.What if he gave in, allowed himself to feel, and that led to him protecting Rodney at the expense of others? What if lives were lost because he’d lost himself in love?
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19





	Vignette

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Readers,  
> This little story is a translation of one of my favourite scenes from one of my favourite novels, 'The Black Moth' by Georgette Heyer. John takes the role of Jack Carstares, an Earl who has taken the blame for his brother's crime of cheating at cards and has become a highwayman, outcast from all civilised society. Elizabeth is the respectable Mr Beauleigh, who comes across as rather harsh, but perhaps understandably so, given the expedition's circumstances, especially during the first season. Rodney plays the part of Miss Diana Beauleigh, a young lady who would quite happily join Jack in his disgrace, but who cannot be allowed to sacrifice her honour!  
> I've taken the scene and put it through an Atlantis filter. I hope you like it.  
> Salchat

It was Teyla who noticed and Teyla who, inevitably, spoke the words aloud. 

She saw through him and into him, when he didn’t see through or into himself; either because he wasn’t that kind of a man, or possibly because he’d taught himself not to look, whereas at one time he would have looked, and then he would have had to deal with what was inside.

Teyla saw, even though he hadn’t known her long; and if they’d known each other longer, if she’d known more about how things worked in the Earth military, or just Earth in general, maybe she would have kept it to herself, so that he could have gone on just a little longer in happy ignorance. But perhaps that would have been worse.

“You love him, don’t you?” she had said, over breakfast, casually, as if the words weren’t a landmine that she’d just stepped on that had blown them all to kingdom come.

Had it been a lesser revelation - like a hand grenade or one of those flash-bangs - he might merely have spat his coffee or denied it, laughing, or made some kind of pretence that his world hadn’t just been vaporised into whitehot destruction.

But coming like that out of nowhere, or out of absolute denial, or out of the truth that only Teyla’s open heart could see, or wherever the hell it had come from, to John it was a cliffhanger, a freeze-frame moment of shocking clarity which turned him to stone while, from the crown of his head, down over his scalp - his face, his neck, his chest, the whole of his body - his unquestioned happiness drained away in a wash of cold horror and the shame that had been ingrained into him by his father’s disgust and by his military life. 

Had he really not known? As soon as she had said the words it was obvious. He’d thought that he was happy because he’d found his place in life, that being on the roster that day, piloting General O’Neill to the Ancient outpost had been the chance he’d been waiting for. He’d thought that sitting in the Chair and feeling it come to life beneath him had been the spark that had revived him from the blank apathy of his stalled career and from his self-deluding acceptance of the anodyne whiteness of the endless snow.

At the time, the excited voice that had intruded on his astonishment hadn’t seemed as if it were the greater event in his life. “Think of where we are in the solar system.”

Rodney McKay, in his orange and grey fleece, his bright-eyed, abrasive enthusiasm meriting a higher cold-weather rating than any piece of clothing could achieve, had burst into John’s life with those few words. And, arriving at the SGC, it was Rodney who had towed him deeper into the waters of aliens and Stargates and galactic wars, with brusque directives, snapping fingers and a constant, urgent, impatient thirst for scientific knowledge.

John had found himself floating in the choppy sea that was Rodney McKay, letting himself be taken by the current, far out into the deep blue, washed through the Stargate and into the stormy waters of the Pegasus Galaxy. And then the city was drowning and he’d met his first friendly aliens and then his first murderous, terrifying aliens and then Sumner was dead.

But there was still Rodney. Rodney, under pressure, but in his element; discovering, innovating, making things work and using John to make them work. And, despite the danger, despite his unexpected command responsibilities, despite the guilt, John was happy because he had a whole city, a whole galaxy to discover and a friend to discover it with.

But then Teyla had said it. She’d said what he’d not seen, or what he’d refused to see. She’d broken through his years of iron-hard denial, his years of turning away from the truth of himself. He’d even turned so far away that he’d met and married Nancy and had assigned the full blame for the breakdown of his marriage to his career and the trauma he couldn’t share.

Teyla had said it, and John had stopped drinking his coffee, got up and bussed his tray and left the mess hall and gone straight to his office and stared at the wall for a full half hour. Then he'd gone to Elizabeth.

The glass walls of Elizabeth's office had responded to his turmoil, becoming opaque, and a forcefield had sprung to life in the doorway, but Elizabeth’s surprise had turned to concern and then incredulity when he'd told her, when he'd forced the words out through stumbling lips. 

He loved Rodney McKay - was in love with him. And in halting, inexact terms he'd explained that it wasn't lust or mere convenience, but genuine heart-lightening, meeting-of-minds love. He didn't know how it had happened. He hadn't known it had happened at all, but it had and he was sorry. 

He was ashamed; the Military Commander, the man upon whom Elizabeth had to rely, had allowed himself to become distracted, had been a tourist on vacation, shirking his responsibility to the men and women under his protection. 

Elizabeth listened. She was not disgusted by the idea of love between men, as his father had been, as the military establishment was in its grudging toleration through mutual silence; in any other time and place she would have been happy for him. But in this Ancient city so far, far away from all hope of rescue, she could not afford to have him distracted and she had said what had to be said.

She had spoken coldly, so coldly, of professionalism and discipline and responsibility and finally, shatteringly of honour.

John had gripped the hem of his shirt and his head had jerked in agreement and shaken tightly in denial: yes, it was unprofessional, yes, he knew how crucial it was to maintain his authority, no, he wouldn’t let it affect him in future, no, he wouldn’t continue in his current informality.

And what of the object of his misplaced affections? Rodney would stay on the team. His expertise was needed and he, after all, had not displayed any inappropriate behaviour toward his colleague. But there must be no more fraternising, on or off duty. Discipline - military discipline - must be maintained, as it would have been under Colonel Sumner’s command.

After he left, John allowed himself some time and space to adjust; that at least he would concede, in the interests of calming the turmoil of his thoughts so that he could return to his duties with all the focus that their constant danger demanded.

He fled to a high walkway, overlooking the city, its arching grace dotted still with the remains of trees and vines that would once have flourished in the flood of light allowed by its curving transparent walls and ceiling.

The city was clear and bright, sharp-edged shadows defining the angled buildings and high-reaching towers, spires and antennae painting stripes against highlights splashed by the morning sun. John looked and simply breathed, and when he saw blue eyes reflected in the surface of the ocean he blinked them away and set his jaw harder.

“Ah, Major, good.” A finger snap claimed both his attention and his presence as brisk footsteps hurried past.

John remained still.

The footsteps faltered. Snaps fluttered against the smooth reverberate surface of the glass walkway. “Hello? Major? Your presence is required. Ancient technology waits for no man!”

John turned around, schooling his face into neutrality. “Not now, McKay. I’m busy.”

“Oh, yes, you look busy, leaning against the glass, pondering the meaning of life, no doubt.” He clapped his hands. “Come on, chop-chop, things to do, minions to yell at!”

“Uh, yeah, you know, there’s other people who can turn stuff on and off for you.”

“Maybe so, but they’re not as good at it, and that’s what you’re here for isn’t it?”

At least Rodney wouldn’t be messed up. At least he’d carry on, oblivious. At least he didn’t care. Not in the way that John did.

“Yeah, that’s changed, though. I’m in command now, so, you know, I should focus on that.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You want to play with the toys just as much as I do. Come on!”

He should cut Rodney off. He should be brutal. That was his best defence, really. To make himself despised, barely tolerated, reduce their relationship to a strictly professional basis. 

He couldn’t do it.

“Uh, look McKay, I’m sorry, but I really need to concentrate on the military stuff. Do my duty, you know? If Sumner was here it’d be different, but I’m The Man now, so I can’t just mess around any more.”

“You could yesterday! Anyways, we’re not messing around, it’s important scientific research!”

“At the moment it’s more important that I do my job, make sure the city’s defended. I’m responsible for the protection of the expedition now.”

“Yes, I know that and it’s a big responsibility and we’re all very grateful that you’re in charge of the grunts. Seriously, I’m very grateful.”

“I don’t want your gratitude!” The words tore their way out of his throat. “You don’t need to be grateful. Not you.”

Rodney’s eyes widened. He took a step back. “Oh, well, uh, I’ll be sure never to say thank you, then.” His lips quirked in a half smile, which dropped away as he sat down on a bench next to a long-dried husk of a delicate, weeping shrub. He fidgeted, huffed, then snapped off a branch and played with it between his broad, capable fingers. “Look, Sheppard, I’m not good at this kind of thing and, to be honest, I don’t think you are either. But if there’s something wrong, if I’ve done something -”

“You haven’t done anything. It’s just, like I say, I need to focus.” John dug his hands in his pockets. There was plenty of room on the bench beside Rodney. He stayed where he was. “I can't afford to make any more mistakes. The whole thing with Colonel Summer - there should have been something, something I could’ve done. Or at least maybe I shouldn’t have gone after him. Because then the Wraith wouldn’t have woken up.”

“No, but he’d still be dead, as well as Teyla and the others that were captured. What else could you have done?”

John shrugged. “Maybe nothing. But that’s not the only time.” His hands clenched around the linings of his pockets and he stared at his boots. He should polish them and be sure to always fasten up the laces properly. How could he make Rodney understand? How could he make him see? “Before - I mean before I was in Antarctica - I, uh, I was in Afghanistan.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah, and uh, a few things happened. Things that were my fault. I disobeyed orders and tried to rescue some guys, but it went wrong.”

“Oh. Is that why you were sent to the Antarctic?”

John shrugged. “Pretty much. I, uh, I’ve never been one to tow the line, not really.”

“You do your job. You protect and defend and all that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, but you know, the buck stops with me now. I can’t afford to get distracted. I need to earn the respect of the men and women under my command.”

“You have -”

“Not enough! It’s not enough, Rodney. I need to be beyond reproach, the face of the military, the guy you can trust when it all goes to hell, the one whose orders you follow without thinking about it.”

“You’re not a machine!”

“Yes, I am. As far as this job’s concerned I am. Because there’s no one else. You think Elizabeth can protect us? You think she’ll know what to do if the Wraith come calling?”

“It’s not all down to you, John! It’s as much my responsibility as yours. I’m the one who’s going to come up with the way of defending us against the Wraith.”

“All the more reason for me to leave you alone to do your job and I do mine and -”

“And never the twain shall meet?”

“As good as. We’re both professionals, McKay. It’s time we acted like it.”

Rodney looked away. His mouth drooped at one corner. His eyelashes were dark against pale cheeks as he stared at his hands, restless fingers snapping the twigs off the dried branch. “And there’s no room in your battened-down existence for friendship, is that it? No room for feelings and - and other things?”

“There can’t be. There can’t. No distractions.”

“Oh.” Rodney crushed the tip of a twig and let the remains fall. “Well, you see, I think you’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong.”

Another twig fell to the ground with barely a whisper of sound. “But what if… what if there’s someone who wants more from you than the military machine? Who can _give_ you more? What if there’s someone who might support you? Who wants to be there for you?”

John’s fingers twitched in a sudden impulse to reach toward his friend. He pushed the impulse down and forced himself to think of his duty, of the life that he had chosen, the military life, where there were rules that he’d agreed to abide by; rules that might be prejudiced and cruel, but that made sense if, otherwise, his will might falter. What if he gave in, allowed himself to feel, and that led to him protecting Rodney at the expense of others? What if lives were lost because he’d lost himself in love? “It wouldn’t work. Like I said, no distractions.”

The blue eyes remained hidden, intent upon their work of destroying the branch. “You could ask -”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wouldn’t be fair. I could never ask someone to do that. We’d both be wrong and we’d both take the blame and the disgrace. No.”

“But what if that person wanted you? And wouldn’t let you make stupid command decisions and wanted…” Rodney swallowed audibly and a twig crumbled in his hand. “What if they wanted to protect you as much as you wanted to protect them? What if they loved you?”

His throat ached with suppressed anguish. “They shouldn’t. They should forget me. Find someone else.”

The smooth surface beneath Rodney’s feet was strewn with scattered fragments and splinters of wood. Huge white clouds sailed past far above, gleaming against the deep blue sky, deeper and bluer than ever a sky above Earth could be. Rodney loved him. He’d made it as plain as he could without saying the words aloud. And John had rejected him.

“Oh.” The restless fingers were still. "Oh." Rodney's voice was a small shadow of sadness. “That's um, that's a tough break for the guy, er, for the girl.”

“Yeah. Probably better if I’d never met hi- her. Never met her.”

“Maybe. Maybe it would have been better.”

He should walk away. Go now, before he made it any worse, before he said too much and couldn't take it back. “I hope that... I hope that they realise… I would if I could.”

Rodney stood up. His eyes were bluer than the sky. He held out his hand. “John.”

John’s hand rose. He couldn’t stop it. His fingertips brushed over Rodney’s, the softest whisper, the barest kiss of a touch. 

Then he turned and marched away, his boots clicking on the hard surface of the corridor in a regular parade ground rhythm, taking him away; away from Rodney, to work out his anger on the firing range or in the gym, to vent his fury and fight the devil that was prompting him to cry the truth aloud and throw aside his burden for love, forgetting duty.

But in his mind he saw his friend. His friend who he loved and that loved him in return, standing amid the scattered twigs, alone, and cold, and terribly hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> This line, 'fight the devil that was prompting him to cry the truth aloud and throw aside his burden for love, forgetting duty' is a direct quote from the novel.
> 
> I hope that hasn't left you too sad! I'm working on a short story with a happy ending at the moment. 
> 
> Please feed the starving author with comments and kudos if you liked it!


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